The Importance of Oranges
by twisted-coil
Summary: A sweet oneshot that could have happened any time after Rupert's death. Clarisse and Joe, of course! o


Laying the book down carefully on her desk, Clarisse's fingers lingered on the soft leather cover. The fine china tea cup set neatly on a coaster beside her contained only dregs and she toyed with ordering another pot. The small mantle clock had chimed five a few minutes ago and for a moment she was undecided. Glancing out of the bay window she couldn't help but feel contented. The garden was looking wonderful, the roses were simply exquisite this summer, and the miniature orange trees didn't look nearly as out of place as she had originally feared. Of course, she probably should have trusted him all along… She smiled to herself and relaxed back in her chair, her mind beginning to wander.

The window was slightly ajar, and as the warm air wafted lazily in, she could smell the wonderful perfume of the roses. Glancing quickly back at the clock she decided that a walk was indeed in order and began to tidy her desk. She had spent most of the afternoon perusing a rather dull amendment to the constitution regarding tax exemptions for expatriates and had finally given up and succumbed, somewhat guiltily, it must be said, to her book. Sunday afternoons were always a trial and, without Charlotte to keep chivvying her on, she seldom managed to get the tasks she had set herself done. It was always with an amused, if politely restrained smile that the young woman would arrive in the office on Monday morning.

Fearing this Monday would be no different, she sighed, and decided just to let it go for once. Having neatly grouped the files into two piles, the 'done' pile ruefully much smaller than the 'to do' one, she leant over the desk and pushed the intercom buzzer. There was a click and she was surprised to hear Joseph's voice,

"Your Majesty?"

"Oh…hello Joseph, I didn't expect it to be you on a Sunday…"

He smiled to himself, wondering idly for a moment if she realised he was always here on a Sunday. Probably not the time to tell her.

"Was there some kind of problem?"

"Oh…sorry…no, not at all. I was just about to go for a walk round the grounds and…well…" she bit her lip, trying to keep her voice serious, "…some fastidious old man in my security team insists on me reporting my every move."

He laughed, remembering her irritation when he had first outlined his new security protocol after a break-in at the palace several months before.

"Really? Hmm…he sounds like a terrible bore. You really should give serious consideration to firing him, you know…"

"Well indeed. That does sound like such a lot of effort though…Perhaps you could find him and ask him to accompany me on my walk. After all, if he will impose these ridiculous restrictions to my life, I think it only fair that he be forced to suffer too."

He chuckled and promised that he would.

As she wandered into her bedroom a few minutes later, to dig out a cardigan, Clarisse paused a moment in front of the mirror, checking her makeup, and realised that she hadn't seen Joseph all week. She'd been terribly busy, visiting the orphanage on Monday, in meetings with members of parliament most of Tuesday and Wednesday, Thursday had been spent with her dressmaker and then Friday and Saturday had vanished in a pile of paperwork. It would be good to catch up a bit. Before she had got so irritatingly busy, she had been a little worried about him, not that she'd said anything, of course, but he had seemed a little down. Maybe he was in need of a holiday? She fussed her hair a little, annoyed that it wouldn't lie straight, and sighed. She would miss him if he did go away…. 'But you haven't seen him all week?', the voice in her head retorted…hmm….yes, but that wasn't the point. He had been there all the same.

By the time she reached the steps of the rose garden, he was already there, examining one of his orange trees. She smiled, noting his concentration.

"They did turn out rather well, didn't they?"

He grinned, and shot her a cheeky look. "You shouldn't have doubted me, should you?"

"It would appear not…" She looked out over the garden, amazed how calm the air was, how warmed she suddenly felt by the pale light of the fading sun. His voice broke her from her reverie,

"So, where did you want to walk?

Turning back in his direction, she shrugged and smiled.

"I don't mind, I just wanted some air…I was in danger of getting cabin fever in that stuffy office. What about down to the lake?"

As she turned back to gaze out over the grounds, he hesitated a moment, unsettled a little by her nonchalance. Thrusting his hands into his pockets he sighed, slightly more heavily than he had intended,

"Would you prefer some privacy? I really don't mind you going on your own, you know…it's more knowing where you are that is important…I…my intention was not to make you feel crowded."

Her back to him, he didn't notice the eyebrow that shot up at his rambling. As she turned to face him, he was relieved to see her smiling broadly. Raising her hand to his cheek and patting it affectionately, she shook her head,

"Don't be so petulant, my dear…I was only teasing earlier, surely your sense of humour hasn't deserted you as well as your earring."

It was his turn to be surprised now, and, self-consciously, he raised a hand to his now-bare ear,

"You noticed?"

She nodded, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"And?"

He looked at his feet, wondering if he might get away with a lie…but quickly realised he wouldn't.

"I, uh, I thought that maybe I was getting a little old for it…"

She chuckled and he blushed immediately.

"Nonsense…I rather like it."

His eyebrow raised involuntarily and as their eyes met, she was genuinely surprised at his expression. Entirely unreadable. Not allowing it to faze her, she continued in her teasing,

"Yes…and by the authority vested in me, I command you to wear it."

Now it was his turn to laugh and, the heat in his cheeks beginning to subside, he felt himself relaxing a touch.

As was his habit, Joe walked a half-pace behind her as they ambled in the direction of the lake. The grounds were deserted, but it made little difference. Clarisse was aware of this but said nothing – she thought she understood…this was his job, what he was trained to do, and, she imagined, that was how one accompanied a royal correctly. Whether it was his first day at work, or his last, that was how he should behave. Not that that made it any less disconcerting. A few times she attempted a kind of shuffle, to bring her step in line with hers, but he always corrected himself. No wonder he was such a good dancer she thought, ruefully.

As he walked with her, Joe wondered if he should suggest they go back. She was obviously having problems with her shoes and he didn't want her to get a blister. He decided not to say anything though – she was in a strange mood this evening and not having worked out yet what its cause might be, he didn't want to risk irritating her.

All the while they talked. About everything and nothing. She wanted to know what he had been doing all week; he inquired how her dress fitting had gone. She asked him what he thought of the new chef; he complimented her on the flower arrangement in the hallway. And so it continued…

"And there it is, you see, there's no way round the situation in my opinion, the French are far too stubborn and the Spaniards are behaving like precocious brats…and they expect _me_ to make the headway in this!"

He smiled to himself. She was really rather formidable when cross…and yet kind of endearing at the same time. From out of nowhere, the image of him creeping up on her and tickling her sides whilst she was in a conference call to some foreign official invaded his mind. Stifling a giggle, he realised that she was staring at him.

"It really isn't that funny, you know…"

He swallowed, desperately trying to shoot the image from his brain.

"I'm sorry, Clarisse, I know…it's just the way you describe them. They sound like naughty schoolboys!"

She shrugged, folding her arms unconscious in front of her,

"What you don't realise is that's generally _precisely_ what they are…"

What Clarisse did involuntarily, Joseph noticed automatically,

"Cold?"

She shivered as he said it, and rubbed her arms.

"A little…shall we head back?"

Before she had really registered the movement, his leather jacket was draped around her shoulders and she was surrounded by the delicious smell of his cologne. And something else…hmm…bitter orange.

She smiled, and thanking him politely, began to walk back in the direction of the palace. Again, he fell in a step behind and again, she noticed it immediately. Something irrational snapped and she turned slightly and, lightly grasping his elbow drew him alongside her. He understood immediately and, as her hand fell back done to her side, he didn't step in behind her again but instead, walked at her side. Not a word was spoken, and both were glad of the fact. A contented smile spread across Clarisse's mouth and she pulled the jacket a little tighter around her.

Joseph snuck a glance at her as she briefly let her eyes drop shut and instantly wished he hadn't…why did she have to be so…so natural? Her eyes opened and he looked back to the trees that ran alongside them, letting his hand slip idly through the leafy ferns.

"So when do you think your sister will be able to come and visit, Joseph?"

He blinked and raised an eyebrow, a little surprised that she'd remembered,

"I'm not sure…maybe in a month or so. The baby is about five months now…"

"About five months?"

"OK, she's five months, two weeks, one day and…", he checked his watch, "seven hours." They laughed together.

"You must be so proud of her…Uncle Joseph…mmm…that sounds good."

He smiled and, suddenly feeling a little shy, decided to change the subject,

"So what are your plans for tomorrow?"

They were about ten minutes walk from the palace now and already she could hear the paperwork calling…

"Oh, nothing much…Spain again, in…in the…" her voice caught a little in her throat as the back of his hand accidentally brushed against hers. "In the morning. And then most probably an afternoon of tedious documents, I fear."

For a moment he didn't respond and she glanced across. He was looking out into the distance, as if in a daydream.

"Joseph?"

In an instant, he turned to smile at her,

"I'm sorry…you were saying?"

As she repeated her comment, she felt the unmistakable warmth of the back of his hand come to rest against hers once again. She realised she had finished her sentence, and that he was saying something in reply, but the words were not registering.

She too found herself staring ahead, noticing the beautiful orange trees starting to glow a little in the sunset. And, then, as if prompted by something outside of herself, her hand quickly, delicately twisted round so their palms met, her hand slipping casually into his.

In an instant, he returned her gesture and interlaced his fingers with hers, gently caressing the back of her thumb with his own.

"Clarisse?"

She drew her eyes away from the horizon, and turned to face him. He smiled, his expression a little puzzled,

"I said that you needn't worry about the Spanish, we're just a lot of hot air really."

"Oh…" For a moment she was lost and then, remembering her earlier train of thought, nodded and forced a quick smile. Immediately he saw through it and his heart sunk.

She felt his eyes leave her face again, as he looked back to the sunset, and as his smile faded, she felt him relax his fingers, beginning to slip away. As his fingertips grazed hers, she felt suddenly faint, as if…as if… Automatically she reached for him again and, taking his hand once more in her own, she looked down and carefully interlaced her fingers with his. Again, he said her name, this time softer than before.

"Clarisse?"

She brought his hand to her lips and gently kissed their entwined fingers. Moving slightly closer, she leant a little against his shoulder, and whispered back,

"Never scare me like that again, my darling…"


End file.
